


The one where Lexa gets jealous of Niylah

by melchellington



Category: The 100, clexa - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchellington/pseuds/melchellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa just wants to show Clarke the wonder that is Polis but her duty to her people pulls her attention away. Clarke wanders into the tent of a not so old... acquaintance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one where Lexa gets jealous of Niylah

The sounds of the streets of Polis were a bit sharper than Clarke first experience due to the absence of a burlap sack over her head. Though the afternoon sun was slowly making it’s low arch across the sky the late fall air briskly swept its warmth away. The sharp wind struck Clarke as she emerged from the tower’s entrance, the tip of her nose turned pink at its bite. Lexa strode beside her in a stance of power, arms clasped behind her back, chin up, chest erect. She was glad to be able to share the lively streets of Polis with Clarke and having her people see Wanheda at her side could only serve to bolster their faith in her.

They spoke briefly as they meandered their way towards the central marketing district. Lexa provided small bits of history about the different parts of the city and answered Clarke’s many questions. When they arrived at the market, the standard buzz of activity turned into a near frenzy. Clarke could hear, “Heda laik hir,” whispering through the crowd as eyes continually turned in their direction. Clarke began to fluster at the idea of being the center of attention but was relieved when the citizens mostly kept to their own business. An occasional merchant would approach Lexa and request an audience but many of the vendors simply stood by their stalls, waiting for Heda to approach.   
They travelled from stall to stall and Clarke compared the goods that the grounders offered to those available on the Ark. It was a array of much greater variety, though the themes were typically the same. Food, jewelry, clothing, odds and ends. Many of them were grounder crafted but she would occasionally spot an item that had obviously come from the Ark. Though she wondered how such things had come into a vendor’s possession, she kept her questions to herself partially because she already knew the answer but also because Lexa had been right, it does no good to dwell on the past. 

Clarke enjoyed exploring the wares but took greater pleasure in watching Lexa interact with her people. She was the epitome of a good politician, chatting with each stall owner, inquiring about their families or how business was doing. She was compassionate and caring in a way that Clarke had rarely seen. When Lexa was embroiled in a conversation with a particularly vociferous woman intent on airing every grievance against Ice Nation he seemed to have ever incurred, Clarke decided to wander about on her own. She informed her guard of her intended direction of wandering and set off. A few stalls down she spotted an eerily familiar panther hide laying out and decided to have a closer look. As she approached the stall, Niylah’s slightly bruised and scarred face appeared between the heads gathered around her stall. Clarke’s heart began beating like a hammer, she froze in her tracks. This was another terrible thing that was likely her fault and she wouldn’t walk away this time. She stepped closer intent on offering an apology.

“Niylah,” Clarke spoke gently. Both Niylah and the woman she was helping turned toward her. Niylah smiled slightly. The customer was awestruck and speechless at Clarke’s.

“Wanheda,” Niylah said breathlessly, “give me a moment.” Niylah turned back toward the woman, hurrying through the transaction, her body slightly trembling. She motioned for Clarke to follow her and the two disappeared inside the folds of cloth that made up the walls of her tradepost. When they were away from the prying eyes of the Polis citizenry, Niylah pulled Clarke into a tight embrace. 

“So you are alive?” Niylah said with marked surprise and relief.

“For the moment,” Clarke briefly reciprocated the hug but pulled away and began to apologize. Niylah shrugged it off, “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I’m just glad you are unharmed.”

“I wish I could say the same for you.” Up close, the bruising and dried blood from wounds still healing on her face was more obvious and the pit of guilt in Clarke’s stomach deepened. She gently touched Niylah’s cheek, “Is this because of me?”

Niylah smiled weekly, “It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.” She pulled Clarke’s hand away, holding it gently. “I’m just glad you are safe within Heda’s walls.”   
At the mention of Lexa, Clarke’s hand dropped from Niylah’s grasp, “Safety is subjective,” she responded. 

“Do not worry about the people of Polis. We are glad to have Wanheda on our side,” Niylah’s tone was slightly reverent and a decent attempt at reassurance, though it wasn’t the citizens that she felt most threatened by.

“Thank you,” Clarke responded with sincerity, resuming contact by placing a hand on her arm. “It is good to see you again.”

“I honestly wasn’t sure that I would,” Niylah’s broad smile dropped as a familiar voice called out and a hand reached through the curtain wall, pulling it aside. 

“Clarke?” Lexa’s appeared at the crease and Clarke’s hand dropped as though it had struck a hot iron. Niylah bowed slightly, addressing Lexa respectfully, “Heda, kom en beja.” The invitation was a bit late as Lexa had already entered the tent, subtly placing a hand on the dagger at her waist.

They stood silently for a moment, Lexa’s eyes looking between the both of them, her expression slightly puzzled by their familiarity. “Niylah,” Lexa finally spoke, “Sonraun kom yu.”

“En, sonraun kom yu,” Niylah responded in kind.

“Clarke, we should be going,” Lexa attempted to command Clarke but was quickly challenged.

“I was just thanking Niylah for helping me while I was exiled. Apparently, she took a beating from the bounty hunter you sent after me.”

Lexa studied the markings on Niylah’s face with little empathy, “Perhaps she should not have resisted his inquiries.”

“Had I known he was bringing Wanheda to Polis, I wouldn’t have,” Niylah rebutted.

Ignoring Clarke completely, Lexa took a step toward Niylah, “A commander doesn’t need to reveal her plans to every … citizen,” she added with obvious disdain. 

Lexa’s posturing didn’t seem to affect Niylah, she opened her mouth to speak but Clarke quickly dove between them, facing Lexa. 

“Hey,” she directed Lexa’s gaze toward her and spoke gently. When their eyes met, Lexa immediately relaxed. “Niylah was one of the few people I was able to trust after you left--” the instantaneous hurt in Lexa’s eyes prompted Clarke to correct herself, “after the Mountain. She deserves your kindness.” 

Lexa simply nodded then addressed Niylah over Clarke’s shoulder, “My apologies and thank you for protecting Clarke.”

Niylah responded smugly, “Wanheda doesn’t need protecting.” Clarke didn’t need another person acting arrogantly on her behalf and she shot Niylah a telling glance, silently begging her to stop talking.

Normally, rage would have consumed Lexa at this insolence but seeing the way Niylah looked at Clarke, she understood the rationale of her behaviour. She swallowed her anger and simply responded, “No, she certainly does not.” Turning back to Clarke, she added, “I’ll be waiting outside. Please don’t be too long.” Clarke nodded and watched the tent wall sway shut at Lexa left. 

Turning back to Niylah, she could hardly contain her disapproval, “That was unnecessary. She could have you killed, you know.”

“I’m not afraid of Lexa,” she responded sternly but softened under Clarke’s worried expression. “I’m sure you could talk her out of it if necessary, considering how madly in love with you she is.”

Clarke averted her eyes at the realization that Niylah was now acutely aware of the depth of her relationship to Lexa. “Is it that obvious?”

“There have been rumors and seeing her in here with you, only confirms them.”

Clarke smiled, her cheeks turning red. “I should go.”

“You should. Don’t be a stranger. My father and I come to market the week of every full moon.”

Clarke agreed to visit again some time in the future and pulled her into a short embrace, “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again.”

Clarke slipped out of the tent, the air outside was refreshing but put a chill in her bones. Lexa was waiting patiently across the road, her guards protecting her from approaching citizens. The excitement she had shown earlier was now replaced by a reserved, almost lost look. Clarke was saddened by this change in her demeanor, knowing she was at least indirectly responsible. She approached Lexa with a smile, intent on cheering her up, but was met with terse, one-worded responses to all of her inquiries. Eventually, she stopped trying and they spent the remainder of their march back to the tower in silence. Clarke knew Lexa was upset about their interaction with Niylah but certainly wouldn’t want to talk about it in public. When they finally entered the privacy of Clarke’s room she prepared to defend herself against an enraged Lexa.

“I know why you’re angry but honestly, you have no right to be,” Clarke attacked first, believing the best defense is a good offense.

Lexa drew close to Clarke, her eyes more full of pain than anger, “Do you love her?.”

Clarke was more startled by the tender hurt in Lexa’s voice than the actual question. Her silence was taken as an affirmative and Lexa turned to leave. Clarke quickly caught her by the arm and pulled her close, “No, no of course not.” 

Lexa showed little sign of relief, “But you did at one time?”

“No, Lexa, we -” Clarke paused,unsure if she was ready to share such personal information with her. unsure of how much she wanted to Lexa to know. As Lexa stared at her expectantly, she realized that any attempt to start over needed to begin with the truth. “-we shared one night together.” Clarke averted her eyes, not because she was ashamed but because she didn’t want to see the pain her words would cause. “She was kind and I was lonely and it just happened.”

Lexa contemplated Clarke silently, a distressed rage in her eyes. Clarke met that rage and attempted to diffuse it, “It didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even stay the whole night.” Then added only half jokingly, “Please don’t have her killed.” 

Lexa responded with a slight nod, the tension in her body beginning to fade, “No, that would be a bit harsh, but, I should have her arrested for the way she spoke to me.”

“You can’t arrest everyone who doesn’t like you,” Clarke challenged her.

“I’ll ban her from Polis then.”

“No, Lexa. Leave Niylah alone. She’s just a merchant, she’s not a threat to you.” Lexa continued to regard Clarke skeptically. She was right or course, Niylah posed no direct threat. There was only an implied threat that she might somehow take Clarke away. It was irrational and remembering her vow and her desire for redemption, she realized that the trust between her and Clarke would have to go both ways.

“Ok,” she approached, gently taking Clarke’s hand in her own. “Niylah is safe from me.”

“Thank you.” Clarke smiled.

Lexa returned the smile, “Today did not go as I had planned.”

“Most days don’t, but at least we’ve made it to another sunset,” Clarke headed toward the open window, pulling Lexa at their clasped hands. Sunsets on earth were still a novel experience for Clarke and the height of the tower provided a completely singular view of the vibrant shades of red and burnt oranges that spread across the sky. Clarke watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon. Lexa watched Clarke. As it grew darker, the streets of Polis bustled as the night lamps were lit and patrons returned to their homes for the evening. Everyone was safe, even Niylah, for one more day


End file.
